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“Eugene!” Vincent whispered loudly, flicking the light switch up and down rapidly before leaving the light turned on. Eugene groaned. He had been trying, to no avail, to fall asleep for the last two or three hours, give or take.
“Ugh. What do you want?”
“Bad news,” Vincent whispered.
“I’m awake, you can stop whispering,” Eugene said, propping himself up into a sitting position. “What happened?”
“Well,” said Vincent, “you know how I was studying earlier?”
“It’s more notable when you’re not studying. So?”
“Um.” Vincent scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “So I was thirsty, right?”
“So am I,” said Eugene. “I can give you my list of contacts if you’re bored of your hand.” Vincent rolled his eyes.
“Oh, fuck off. Anyway, I had my water bottle on my nightstand and my book on the bed. And it’s late, and I wasn’t thinking--”
“No surprise there,” Eugene remarked. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now with the way Vincent was glaring at him.
“As I was saying, it was late, and I may have actually put my textbook on my nightstand and my open water bottle on my bed.”
“Which I presume then spilled everywhere?” Eugene asked. Of all the things to be nearly woken up for, at least this was amusing. For him, at least.
“Yeah,” Vincent said. “But I’m really tired, and my bed is soaked, and it’ll take at least a day or two to dry out completely.”
“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about it?”
“Nothing, really. I just wanted to complain. And bother you,” Vincent grinned. “You know how much I love to bother you. I’ll just go sleep on the couch.” He turned to leave, then thought of something and turned back. “Why were you awake when I came in? It’s two in the morning.”
“Says Mr. Staying-Up-Til-Two-Studying. You’re just as guilty as I am.”
Vincent narrowed his eyes. “You’re avoiding the question.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Eugene shrugged. “In fact, I was almost drifting off until someone barged in on me.”
“Bullshit,” said Vincent. “Your eyes were wide open.”
“Maybe I sleep with my eyes open.”
“You do not. I have seen you sleep before. You snore, by the way.”
“I do not!” Eugene gasped. “Now you’re just spreading lies!”
“Fine. You don’t actually snore,” Vincent conceded. “But you definitely were not asleep or anywhere near the vicinity of sleep when I came in.” Eugene groaned.
“Fine, yes, I was wide awake. Is that a crime?”
“I’m just worried about you!”
“Well, stop worrying.”
“I’ll stop worrying when you establish a decent sleep schedule.”
“It’s not like I’m not trying!” Eugene yelled, fists clenching. “I’m trying to sleep! I would like to sleep! Sometimes I just can’t,” he said, leaning back into his pillows as the fight drained from him. He suddenly felt exhausted.
“Sorry,” Vincent muttered.
“S’fine,” Eugene said.
Silence hung heavy in the room.
“You know,” Vincent said, after the tension had become nigh unbearable, “I read about an interesting study earlier.”
“Mm,” said Eugene noncommittally.
“It was a sleep study that was done a few years ago. They didn’t have a very large sample size, so their results aren’t nearly as transferable to the general population as the article would have you believe, but it was still interesting.”
“Mm,” Eugene said again. “Get to the point.”
“They found that the physical presence of another person was helpful in mild cases of insomnia. Worked in rats, worked in human trials.”
“Is this your way of trying to get in my bed?” Eugene said, sitting up again to look Vincent in the eyes. Vincent stared at him, his expression unreadable. He was getting scarily good at that.
“Is it working?”
“No. Turn the light off.”
Vincent looked at him with an exaggerated pout, before slowly flicking off the light.
“Ugh, who am I kidding,” said Eugene. “It’s working spectacularly. Get in before I change my mind.”
Vincent laughed as he padded over to Eugene’s bed and carefully climbed in, wrapping his arms around Eugene’s torso. He looked up at Eugene with a soft, mischievous look in his eye, and Eugene couldn’t not kiss him. Vincent’s lips were soft and warm, and they parted eagerly for Eugene. Vincent kissed him hungrily, gently grabbing Eugene’s short hair to pull him closer. Eventually, though, the need for air did overpower the need for Vincent’s tongue down his throat, and Eugene pulled away, resting his forehead against Vincent’s.
“We should talk about this, eventually,” Vincent whispered.
Eugene cupped Vincent’s face with his hands, and pulled him in for another kiss, soft and chaste. When they parted, Vincent rested his head against Eugene’s shoulder. Eugene wrapped his arms around Vincent’s chest.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered back. “For now, we get to test if that study is relevant to us.”
Vincent huffed a laugh. “I might have to sleep in your bed tomorrow night, too. My mattress might not have dried out by then.”
Eugene rubbed small circles against Vincent’s forearm with his thumb. “Don’t want mold growing. I think you should be extra careful and let it dry out for a week. Seems like you’ll have to sleep with me for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh, no! Whatever will I do?”
“The dangers of late-night study sessions. Hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Shh. Go to sleep.”
“Was trying to, before you came in.”
“You weren’t complaining about that a minute ago,” Vincent said, poking his arm.
“Shh. Go to sleep.”
Their conversation drifted off as words became too heavy to speak into existence, and they both fell silent, holding each other close as a wave of peaceful slumber washed over them.